Breakfast
by Hat-Wearing Creep
Summary: Set in modern world and times, Square holds a contest and the winner is allowed breakfast with Sephiroth. He is not pleased.


Breakfast

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Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to Sephiroth. Square does. Secondly, no people affiliated with Square or screaming fangirls were harmed during the writing of this fan-fiction. Thirdly, despite how Sephiroth feels, I bear no ill will toward Square, FFVII, or rabid fangirls. Thank you.

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Sephiroth let his too-white teeth show as he let loose a rumbling growl from the depths of his chest. The success of Final Fantasy VII around the world was probably one of the worst things to ever happen to him. After he had walked into the streets and was immediately recognized by squealing, adolescent girls, he had decided that he would brutally murder everyone who had a hand in creating the game...nay, monstrousity..that was Final Fantasy VII as soon as he had the opportunity to do so.

It was revolting. The game had turned him into a _farce_. They had made light of everything that happened to him, everything he'd experienced. What was worse was the outrageous delight that males..and even_ females_..expressed by dressing up as _him_ in public! It was enough to both enrage him and turn his stomach. His eyes narrowed at the thought of it all.

However, he was stuck until he had an opportunity to slay his captors. It was either he put up with the horrendous "fans" and their botched attempts at "honoring" and "worshipping" him...or he would be donated to laboratory science for the rest of his existence or merely until he murdered all of the scientists and escaped . He waited patiently, as a predator waits for its prey, for the perfect moment to lash out and go on a rampage, a jovial massacre of all of the Square employees for what he'd had to endure. He smiled inwardly.

This particular day was going to be excruciating for Sephiroth. He loathed Square with every fiber of his being when he had heard them announce "The Contest". It was eight months ago, and the deadline was two months ago. One week had passed since the announcement of the winner. Sephiroth repressed a bestial growl. Yes, the contest. "Breakfast with Sephiroth". Square had announced that they wanted the best written essays about Sephiroth. The topic was, "Write an essay in less than 2000 words about why Sephiroth is your favorite villain." How trite.

Today was X-Day. Sephiroth was going to have breakfast with the winner of the contest. It would be a drastic understatement to say that he was less than thrilled about it. However, he didn't have enough time to devise a clever enough plot to get out of it. So, he was on his way there to meet the person, and attempt to get it over with as soon as he possibly could.

As Sephiroth arrived at the winner's home, he tried to remain calm. He was nearly quivering with rage, however. He was a bit puzzled as the door opened into the house without him knocking.

"Wait! Oh my Gosh, WAIT!" said a female voice. Sephiroth glanced about but he didn't see anyone. As he glance a fat little hand..glasses were shoved forcefully onto the bridge of his nose. He blinked annoyedly and looked up, gritting his teeth together as hard as he could manage. His eyes focused on a beautiful young woman with long brown hair and a perfect figure.

"...What are ...these spectacles for?" He asked, trying not to use too angry of a tone. The girl giggled at him.

"Those are magic rose fan-fic glasses, Sephy!" she answers. "See, I put them on you so that you won't know how I really look and you think I'm a beautiful young woman and fall in love with me!"

Sephiroth blinked and his eyes narrowed into acidic green slits. He could barely even tolerate being called "Sephy". It was deplorable.

"I am not interested in any sort of relationship with any living being, _especially_ a romantic relationship. Your cheap attempt at sorcery has failed; not even such a laughable illusion as this can take hold on me."

Sephiroth tore the glasses off and threw them to the floor. The girl cried out, and he crushed the glasses with the heel of his black, glossy leather boot. His eyes gleamed with jubilance as he heard the girl's sobs. His expression quickly became one of disgust though, when he saw her without the glasses on.

The girl looked to be fairly young. She was short and greasy haired, with thick glasses and braces in her mouth. She was also covered in freckles and almost incredulously corpulent. Her skin was mottled and oily, and she wore vomitably tight clothes. No monster he'd faced on the battlefield could even compare with the creature before him. Nonetheless, he wore a calm, icy expression across his face, undaunted by the girl-thing's appearance.

She finally composed herself and stood up again, then stuck out a pudgy hand for Sephiroth to shake. He looked at her and raised a thin, silvery eyebrow in disbelief. She smiled at him. He was alarmed at how ill he felt at the sight of the smile.

"I'm Mary Sue. It's so AWESOME to meet you Sephy! I am your biggest fan!" the girl told him happily. He peered at her again from head to toe, but didn't touch the hand she'd extended.

"...Quite..."he replied with complete disinterest. Mary Sue closed the door to the house and led Sephiroth into the kitchen and turned to face him again. It was then that he noticed a camera hanging around her neck. He restrained himself from strangling her to death with the camera strap. He closed his eyes briefly, imagining her black and blue, asphyxiated corpse lying on the tiled floor.

"Have a seat!" She said merrily. He half-lidded his eyes and sat down at her kitchen table, moving his trenchcoat to the side to allow him to sit fairly comfortably though he was not at all comfortable in Mary Sue's home, truthfully .

The sooner this is over with, the sooner I can return to my quarters and indulge myself in reading, again, Sephiroth thought to himself as he stared at the obese girl in front of him. She had already set dishes on the table. He would've asked what they would be having, but he had no desire whatsoever to communicate with Mary Sue. He only wanted the stupid breakfast to be finished so that he could return to his confinement and be oblivious to the outside world again. It became his consuming thought.

Mary Sue set out a few different boxes and a gallon of milk on the table.

"Well, I didn't know what cereal you liked so I just got a few different ones. Go ahead, help yourself!" she said, already having helped herself. She sat down at the table across from him staring with huge bug-eyes as she ate.

He refused to move at all. The nausea-inducing creature before him had long since extinguished whatever appetite he had when he had awoke that morning. Secondly, he despised breakfast cereals. After about ten minutes or so of Mary Sue crunching her cereal with her mouth open and babbling to him about how much she was in love with him, she stood up and served Sephiroth a bowl of what appeared to be sugar-frosted wheat flakes. He stared blankly at the bowl full of cereal and milk before him with no desire to touch it, mainly because she just put her filthy hands all over the bowl and he didn't know where else her grimy hands had been. Her table manners were atrocious.

She continued to ramble to him about how the two of them were made for one another, occasionally stopping to snap pictures of him, which he generally snarled and winced at.

"You sure are a lot quieter than I thought, Sephy." Mary Sue blabbed. He responded with a violent glance up at her bloated face. She paused a minute and then continued her jabbering on. He refrained from groaning.

The One-Winged Angel's eyes of glowing moss-green became hard slits of cold chartreuse ice. He harbored no desire to sit in front of an adolescent girl and consume sucrose-coated wheat flakes. His lip curled into a feral smirk as he regarded the girl, not imagining bedding with her, but rather, considering what she would look like if her skull was split open and the cold cereal replaced whatever served her as a brain.

Mary Sue noticed that he finally was regarding her with a smirk on his face. She beamed happily as she wolfed down her last few bites of cereal. She looked at his bowl.

"I guess you weren't too hungry. Are you feeling well?" she asked, poking him. He attempted to bite off her finger but he was not quite fast enough.

"Not particularly." he spat out venomously. She seemed not to notice the fact that he was seething at her.

Finally, this torment is nearly finished... he noted silently. He stood up hastily, and made his way to the kitchen entryway. She quickly followed him, her fat jiggling as she stopped in front of him.

"Wow, that was SO great! Aren't you going to give me a hug and stuff?"

Sephiroth glowered and muttered that he had to be on his way. Mary Sue ignored what he said entirely and hugged him tight as hard as she could, rubbing her oily hands all over him.

"Oh Sephiroth..I want to feel you thrusting inside of me.." Mary Sue said passionately. He looked down at her and made sure that his piercing emerald eyes met hers.

"...As you wish.."he replied bitterly, as he slowly raised a hand. He drew out the Masamune, and turned it so the light from the window gleamed upon its surface. She stared at it for a moment.

Then, Sephiroth smirked devilishly as he thrusted the Masamune into Mary Sue's bulging body, over and over and over again, until he felt a burning sensation in his arm where the muscle was protesting from being used so much.

He decapitated the disgusting body, and made a clean slice across the forehead as he walked over to the kitchen table and spilled her brain into the kitchen sink. He blinked as he regarded the twitching, headless corpse of the plump, teenaged girl, and then the box of sugar flakes on the table. No longer feeling threatened, he relaxed considerably and filled her now empty head with the frosted wheat flakes.Though the head still dripped blood, he was not put off by it. He added the milk, and stared at the concoction for a few moments before sheathing his sword languidly and taking up the spoon on the table.

He stood there in the kitchen of the girl's home, leaning casually against the wall as he ate breakfast cereal out of her brainless head. The milk took on a sort of tangy, metallic flavor as it mingled with the neurotic fluids and the blood, but he thought it tasted better that way.

As he finished and walked out of the house, tracking blood along the way, he cackled mirthlessly at the thought of those who would oppose his freedom.


End file.
